I shall never forget a “Dear Abbey” letter I read in 1960’s. It went like this:
“A few weeks after the birth of our daughter, she became very ill. The doctors said she was allergic to my cigarette smoke. If I continued to smoke in her presence, it could kill her.
“I tried to give up smoking altogether, but that didn’t work. I tried smoking in the basement, the garage, and the car in the driveway, but that still made our daughter sick.
“I can’t take it any longer. Can you please help me by giving me the name of a reputable adoption agency?”
(This letter is like the tale of the chain smoker who became so exasperated by constantly reading in the newspaper that smoking caused cancer, that he gave up — reading.)
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